Plan Blue
by rebel diamond18
Summary: Brothers in illegal arms, the rivalry of Thor and Loki Odinson threatens to spill into the streets as they fight to control the depraved underground realm they were born into. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis are the women about to be pulled into a war they know nothing about, in a world they don't belong in. They all must navigate the trail of deceit, betrayal and bloodshed to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story is based on philyra-dreamhouse's gifset and prompt: post/79058549231

Jane walked down the long white hospital corridor, sneakers squeaking on the waxed floor. Her brown hair hung down the shoulders of her well worn blue scrubs. She took a long sip of her coffee, plenty of sugar - her third of that evening's shift. While she walked she pulled her phone out of her white coat. The building was so familiar to her, she didn't need to look up as she maneuvered the hallways and the people of the hospital. Jane pulled up her messages to send a quick text to Darcy.

She wouldn't be able to make it tonight, not that Darcy should be surprised. Darcy was always trying to get Jane to "come out" with her. Whatever that meant. Usually a few nondescript bars, even more unremarkable men, and far too many fruity drinks. Their evenings out usually ended with Jane pulling the plug on the night early, either because she had to work at some odd hour the next day or to get some work done back at their apartment. Sometimes Darcy came with her, sometimes she stayed out well after Jane went to bed. Sometimes Darcy was home when Jane woke up and regaled her with tales the next morning of all the fun she'd missed, sometimes Darcy still hadn't come home from the night before, sometimes a guy Jane had never met before was sitting in their kitchen, eating her cereal.

Sure Jane wasn't exactly lighting the world on fire socially, as Darcy liked to point out, but she enjoyed her work. Yes, she didn't get half of Darcy's references because she fell asleep halfway through any movie they watched. Yes, she had not been on a date in … well, a while. Yes, she lived off of mostly the aforementioned cereal eaten out of the same white bowl. The latter of which, Darcy assured her, could be alleviated by saying yes to some of the men who asked her out, _Good god woman, if you can't feed yourself at least let someone else take a crack at it! You know guys are required to feed you on a date, like, that's part of the deal. Do you think I actually like half the guys I go out with? I'm running a money saving operation here! _This Darcy had told her while gesturing to the one night stand sitting at their breakfast nook. But to Jane, any bowl of cereal or hospital cafeteria meal was usually preferable to taking time away from her work as a tired but happy resident in emergency surgery.

Jane glanced down at her all too familiar uniform. Well, it would feel good to put on some normal clothes for a change. Maybe she should take Darcy's advice. Maybe she should shake it up a little bit. It's only one evening out of her life. Carpe diem! Maybe she should go out tonight! Jane smiled and her thumb slid over the backspace to revise her original text, suddenly energized.

"_Plan Blue_," the announcement came in over the intercom, indicating the arrival of a critically injured trauma patient.

On second thought ….

Slightly deflated, Jane hit send on her message to Darcy, tossed her coffee into the trash, and jogged the rest of the way down the corridor to meet the ambulance at the ER entrance and take the patient for immediate surgery.

Jane threw her hair back in a ponytail, put on a surgical gown and mask, and joined the other doctors, nurses, and technicians on the trauma team. Jane nodded at Dr. Selvig, her mentor and attending physician. The gurney was being rolled in by the paramedics. The team descended on the stretcher and seamlessly hurried with it down the hallway in well-rehearsed formation. One member took over CPR. The anesthesiologist monitored the patient's vital signs. The patient's shirt was already cut open to reveal his injuries. The team called out their assessment as they approached the operating room.

"Male, mid-70's, multiple stab and gunshot wounds."

"Blood in the airways."

"Right lung may be punctured."

"Significant blood loss, hypothermia evident."

The team disappeared behind the doors to the OR.

Despite their best efforts to stave off further blood loss and stabilize the man, 20 minutes later it was evident they were too late. The blood loss and internal injuries were too great.

"Call it, Dr. Foster," Erik requested.

Jane looked at the clock on the wall, then down at the man in front of her. Gray hair and beard, one of his eyes completely scarred over, a very old wound. "Time of death 11:28pm."

"Make sure the police are notified immediately," Erik ordered. "I recognize this man. They're going to be interested in this."


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy leaned her forearms heavily on the dark wood of the bar, taking a liberal scoop of peanuts from the glass bowl and throwing them back into her mouth. She lifted her phone and read the text again, _Sorry - can't make it tonight, extra shift_.

Darcy sighed and let her head drop to her arm. If she'd known Jane wasn't coming - and she should have know Jane wasn't coming - she sure wouldn't have picked this yuppie bar to spend her night in. It was one of those bars that modeled itself like an English pub, but comfortably commercialized for the young urbanite. She picked it solely for its proximity to the hospital to make it harder for Jane to weasel her way out of their plans.

She grabbed another handful of peanuts and slowly spun around on her bar stool, assessing her options. She could go home and spend another night alone in their apartment, falling asleep on the couch to _Catfish_ reruns until she heard Jane's keys in the lock, or she could try her luck elsewhere. She threw some peanuts up in the air and tried to catch them in her mouth, her dangling legs swinging back and forth. Chewing, she pulled whatever cash she had out of her jacket pocket. Throwing the crumpled bills and random change on the bar, she debated whether her string of odd jobs could afford her the drink that was already in front of her and the cover charge at a dive bar across town where a neo-rockabilly band was playing tonight.

"I believe you dropped something."

Darcy swiveled. Three men loomed over her. The guy who spoke stood next to her, the two other men stood behind him, glancing disinterestedly at her for a moment then scanning the room. In his hand he held a wadded up dollar bill.

Darcy leaned her elbows back against the bar, making no point in hiding her assessment of him. He was tall and lanky with short brown hair that was obviously trying to be curly, even though he slicked it back. She docked him points for having a larger than average forehead, but his features were sharp and dark, even though his skin was porcelain white. He fit the 'tall, dark, and handsome' profile well, albeit in an unusual way. He wore, Darcy almost choked on her drink, a three piece suit. And he talked the Queen's English. A British yuppie.

Darcy glanced down at her money haphazardly strewn across the smooth wood. "Oh, thanks," she reached for her dollar.

He opened his palm, but before she could grasp the bill, he closed his fist around it. Darcy opened her mouth to complain, but he had already opened his hand again to reveal four quarters. Entertained, Darcy relaxed back in her chair and watched as he closed his long fingers again and released, making her dollar appear again.

"Neat trick."

He gave her a tight smile, "I hear that a lot," handing the bill back to her. She smirked at him, swept up the rest of her money and stuffed it back into her pocket.

Darcy perked up in her chair. "Cool, now do it again and this time make it a twenty," she challenged. He laughed but made no move to leave his spot in front of her. "No, seriously, what else you got?" she requested, picking up her drink and taking a sip from the straw. "My night just took a dive towards the pits and you're the most entertaining thing in this place. Do they, like, hire you for the ambiance?"

He took in the faux European decor with the signs advertising the 'bangers and mash' special and the fake cricket scores scribbled on the wall and grinned. "No, but it is the only place where they sell a decent dark ale," he nodded to the drink he had set on the bar, so unlike the pale beers littering the room.

"Missing the mother country?" she asked, resting her head on her hand.

He studied his glass for a beat before meeting her eyes again, "Not at the moment." He moved closer to the bar and leaned on it but didn't sit down. "So what happened to your night?"

"I got stood up by my bestie, _again_," she rolled her eyes. "Cuz she's, like, this super important person who does super important things like _save lives_, but like, I think HER life is super important too and she should put that first for a change!"

His eyes danced brightly as he followed her animated story. "Well," be began, "I might not be your _bestie_," the word sounding foreign coming out of his mouth, "but perhaps I can be a poor substitute for the evening."

Darcy considered his offer for a moment before leaning out of her chair, "Will the Royal Guard be joining us?" she asked dubiously, gesturing at the two large, characterless men still shadowing him.

He glanced back at the men and nodded. They quickly disappeared out of the bar.

She made a show of looking him over again. Finally, she hooked her boot into the stool next to her and pulled it closer, "Alright, Professor," she slapped the seat, "you'll do."

_Later that night ..._

They'd sat at the pub finishing their drinks and talking until Darcy declared that she was starving and made a move to order off the pub menu.

"From personal experience, I wouldn't," Loki gently extracted the sticky laminate from her hands. "If you are willing to leave these," he glanced around and gestured, "… charming surroundings, I know a place." They'd grabbed a taxi and headed across town to a basement bar that served real fish and chips and was hosting a poetry slam.

When they closed that place down, they'd wandered the streets, talking and ducking into whatever open shops looked interesting. Now they wandered up and down the aisles of an old 24 hour pharmacy that also sold shelves of random items that looked to have been there since the late '70s. There were rows of late night impulse buys, like Chinese lucky cats and dusty vases for the flowers you'll never buy.

Darcy strolled down one aisle, Loki down the next. Darcy took the time apart to study him through the gap in the products as he picked up items, toyed with them, then placed them back on the shelf. He was dressed so uptight with his long coat and scarf. Like he was going to the opera. But he had fit in just as well in the dive bar they went to. He was quick to laugh. Always had something witty to say. He even got up on stage at one point and played guitar with the house band for a few songs. But he remained a bit of an enigma to her. She couldn't quite pin him down. No matter how relaxed he seemed around her, how lost he got in the chords he played on stage, he was always so ... in control of himself. Darcy wondered what he'd be like if he really let go.

Darcy tilted her head, "So where were you going all dressed up tonight?" she ventured.

Loki looked up from the plastic ukulele he was fingering, "Hm?"

She gestured to his clothes, "The duds."

He glanced down at himself, "Oh, I just had some business to take care of tonight."

They continued walking, occasionally losing sight of each other behind boxes, "What business?"

His eyes slid sideways, "I manage client relations," he answered finally.

"Like, for a law firm?"

"No," he answered immediately, smirking, "Definitely not a law firm."

"Good," Darcy responded, "cuz I was beginning to think I made out in that back of that taxi with a lawyer," she shivered.

Loki laughed, shaking his head, "No," he leaned on the shelf between them, his face framed by lampshades and decorations for a holiday six months away, and stage whispered, "though I know a few reliable ones who specialize in discretion." Darcy smiled back at him and they continued their stroll until they reached the end of their aisles. "Generally, I make things appear and disappear when required," he added.

She looked at him, "Required by who?"

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but froze. "My ... father," he answered stiffly, the gleam in his eyes that she had appreciated all night fading. Suddenly he looked very far away.

Darcy fingered a green sparkly birthday party hat, "Appear and disappear, huh? Ever steal anything?" she asked mischievously, hoping to bring that glint back.

Loki visibly brightened. "Now _that_ I can confidently answer," he stalked towards her, "yes." Darcy smiled and with a flourish she placed a plastic black top hat on his head, the kind you give out at New Year's Eve parties. Darcy thought he wore it rather well. "You?" he ventured, sensing she was up to something.

Darcy shrugged, a smile curving her full lips. She gave a long glance to the proprietor behind the little counter. The old woman's silent, judging glare had been following them ever since they walked in.

Darcy looked around like she was still browsing, but to Loki she was obviously searching for something. Loki followed her lead, nonchalantly grabbing a handful of erasers shaped like zoo animals. He coughed into his hand, slyly releasing his fingers one by one to show Darcy that the objects were no longer there.

Challenge issued, Darcy's eyes lit up momentarily before narrowing. Casually playing with the zipper of her jacket, she stalked around the store. Her back was to Loki but her momentary hesitation told him she found what she was looking for. She crouched down for a minute, looking to all the world like she was tying her shoe. She abruptly stood up and walked past Loki, giving him a quick nod.

He followed her out the door, tipping his plastic hat to the old woman behind the counter. Darcy grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the store before the woman could object. She didn't let go and they ran down the street laughing and whooping and didn't stop until they reached the corner. "What did you get?" he asked her, both of them panting. She pulled down the zipper of her jacket and proudly pulled out a plastic bag. She held it up for his inspection. Inside it a goldfish swam in circles. He laughed again, smiling widely, "That's why I like you Darcy."

"Why's that?" she asked.

His breath slowed and he stepped closer to her, his face suddenly serious. He studied her for a long moment before answering. "Because I can be honest without telling the truth."

Darcy looked into his eyes and accepted his answer. She'd heard worse. In fact, that was probably the most honest thing a man had ever told her.

"You're going to need a bowl for that fish," he told her. In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think I have one at my place," he added. When she didn't object, he wrapped one arm around Darcy and held the other in the air for a taxi.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane was sunk into the big puffy couch she and Darcy had found for pennies at a yard sale in the suburbs. Her toes were curled on the edge of the cluttered coffee table, her laptop balanced on her striped pajama bottoms. She tapped away on her laptop, only pausing periodically to take a bite of her half eaten bagel or consult one of the notebooks or sheets of paper she had feathered out around her.

Their apartment on the edge of the city was in a redeveloping part of town. The building they lived in was an even mixture of the disapproving elderly and the young tattooed hipsters who worked at the farmer's market by day and sold shots on roller skates in bars at night. Jane and Darcy's apartment was a cozy hodgepodge of colors, a product of thrifting and dumpster diving. It was tiny but the open floor plan suited them, with a bedroom on either side of the living room.

As different as they could be sometimes, Jane and Darcy had been roommates ever since they met when Darcy was interning at the hospital. It was one of several internships she'd had in several different fields over the years. Darcy still took college courses off and on when money allowed, every time declaring a different major. The hospital internship hadn't lasted long, but Darcy and Jane's friendship had.

There was a jangling outside the apartment door for a long minute, the usual sound of Darcy fumbling with her keys. Jane patiently stared at the door. A minute later Darcy tumbled into the apartment.

"Guten Morgen!" she announced, giving her keys a sprightly toss onto the table. She was still wearing the same mustard sweater, maroon skirt, and black leggings she was in when Jane left for work the night before. Jane didn't remember leaving her with that particular skip in her step she had now though.

Jane's eyebrows shot in the air. "Good morning," she answered, surprise evident in her voice. This was a far cry from Darcy's regular morning after entrances into the apartment. There was usually a lot of slumping, slow movements and a "You wouldn't _believe_ the clown I had to put up with last night!"

Jane was astonished as she watched Darcy do a twirl while taking off her jacket, tossing it onto the back of a chair at the kitchen table in front of her. She hummed her way into the kitchen and rifled through a bag of bagels on the counter, "Ooooh, chocolate chip" she announced victoriously, plucking it out of the bag.

"And where were _you_ last night?" Jane sang, since no immediate details were forthcoming, entertaining as the show Darcy was putting on was.

Darcy pivoted on her toes to face Jane, a grin fighting for dominance on her face where derision usually resided. "Would you believe," she announced slowly, taking a large stride into the living room, "a penthouse suite!?" her voice rose at the end.

Jane shook her head in confusion, "With a guy? Was he the poolboy?"

Darcy paused, not even offended, but seriously considering the question. "Ya know, you would think," she pointed her finger at Jane, "but no."

Penthouse? Darcy!? Not her usual type ... of location or man. At all. Even more surprising than her being there at all was that she had gone there of her own free will and apparently enjoyed herself. Jane could see her accidentally wandering into a black tie affair, drinking a rich man's booze for kicks and saying rude things to bankers all night, but not hanging out with that crowd on purpose.

"A penthouse?" Jane mused again. "What's he do?" she asked. Guys with a _career_ weren't even Darcy's type. Guys with a job that they occasionally showed up to and got paid under the table, sure. But not guys who regularly and reliably appeared somewhere for money that could be claimed on a tax form.

"Not really sure," Darcy answered around a mouthful of bagel. "Business of some kind. But I think he's, like, from old English money or something. And I'm pretty sure he has bodyguards. His family probably has one of those estates where they find, like, Marie Antoinette's wigs in their attic." She shrugged, "Anyway his place is right in the middle of the city. You can see everything from up there. There's even a heated pool on the roof. You should have come out with me!"

"I think it's best I didn't," Jane teased.

"He might have a rich friend," Darcy taunted back.

"Darcy May Lewis," Jane jokingly chided, "I don't believe what I'm hearing. Since when do you rate people based on how much money they have?"

"No," Darcy whined exasperatedly in response to Jane's badgering. She walked further into the living room, throwing her arms down in frustration. "It's more than that, it's, like…" she trailed off into space for a moment before seeing the look Jane was giving her. She tried to hide her blush behind her bagel. "Oh, I don't know, don't look at me like that!" she tore a piece of her bagel off and threw it at Jane. "He's … clever. And I like that." Darcy returned her attention to her bagel, licking her fingers, "We're going out again Thursday night."

"Darcy!" Jane exclaimed in fake shock. "Don't you think that's a little too fast?" This was the most enthusiasm Darcy had shown for a guy in a really long time. And Darcy didn't give most people the time of day. Jane smiled, happy for her best friend all the same, despite the unusual source of her joy.

"Come out with us," Darcy requested.

"I have to work," Jane answered automatically.

Darcy flopped down on the couch next to Jane, making some of her papers flutter to the floor. Jane moved to collect them, but Darcy blocked her. "Look, Jane, I cannot leave you in this apartment alone one more night. It's so depressing! I don't know what yet, but something's happening here and I want to share it with you."

Jane glanced down at Darcy's hands, only now noticing the little objects she was playing with. "What's with the menagerie?"

Darcy looked down at the animal erasers in her hand. She fiddled with them a little and shook her head, "It's nothing, just something stupid." But the dreamy smile on her face told Jane that it was anything but.

Jane thought back to her internal argument with herself at the hospital. "Alright, Thursday, I'll come straight after work. I promise," she added when Darcy gave her a doubtful look. Satisfied, Darcy stood up and headed towards her bedroom. "But seriously, Darcy, what do you know about this guy?"

"No worries, mamacita," Darcy reached over the back of the couch, giving Jane a squeeze, "I can take care of myself." She dropped a sisterly kiss on Jane's forehead and pushed off the couch, disappearing behind her door.

"I know that," Jane shouted at her bedroom door, "but what about _him_?"


End file.
